


Punishment Part III

by SlySama



Series: Punishment Tales [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Confused Harry, Corporal Punishment, F/M, First Time, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Male-Female intimate relations, Paddling, Sexual Confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 22:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlySama/pseuds/SlySama
Summary: Harry finds himself barely able to keep himself together after he's punished whilst cleaning the private Lab, he's so sore, he's completely spent energy-wise what with have twice as much homework than even the seventh years because they're catching up, he's completely stressed.His mind is own his orientation now and he's frightened just from a voice behind him thinking it's Snape only to find out it's actually just Luna who wants to ask him to Hogsmeade; this turns out interesting but just as equally detrimental to Harry's immediate future.Snape may be a little, jealous?He's so fucking confused.





	Punishment Part III

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, that privilege and ownership belongs to J.K Rowling herself.  
I merely borrow them to write some fanfictions that hopefully are enjoyed by those that read them :) I make no money out of it.

 

 

 

Harry heaved a sigh as he sat on his hands and knees, scrubbing a particularly fearsome stain on the stone floor with a scrubbing brush, a rag and some sort of heavy duty cleaner; it smelt horrible that just a little before when he’d fainted into the stain, Snape had quickly given him a mask—it was easier to breath but it wasn’t any less disgusting.

He huffed beneath the mask and scrubbed harder, eyes narrowed on the stubborn spot. He wasn’t sure if he wished he knew how much time had passed or if he’d prefer to keep the amount he’d been doing this menial task a secret.

‘Stop huffing and do the job, Potter. I can hear you from over here.’

Harry grumbled and scrubbed fiercely, squirting more of the liquid into the rag. Well, this was definitely punishment but was this counted as the punishment that Snape thought Harry deserved for all these potions destroyed?

//

He was onto the next stubborn stain when he was hauled up by his arm. He winced and tried to pull himself free but the arm remained firmly in the older man’s grasp. He looked up into the dark eyes with his rag falling to his side. He blinked, and kept blinking when Snape simply stared back intensely.

‘I think you’ve done enough tonight, however…’ He let his words trail and frog-marching Harry to a desk that happened to be in here too, he pushed Harry to it, his tailbone hitting the wood hard that he cringed, hands falling to grip the edge and his mask was ripped from his face.

He took in a lungful of air and waited.

He hadn’t been sure what Snape was doing now but when he was spun around, his legs kicked apart, his hands grabbed and placed on the top of cleaned surface—he groaned. But his ass still hurt from last night. He thwacked his forehead to the wood as he felt his trousers disappear along with his shorts again. His breathed through his nose and shut his eyes, hands turning into fists atop the table. Damn it.

SMACK

Harry couldn’t stop the jump that is body did.

SMACK

SMACK

His teeth clenched, mouth opening to hiss between them. He hadn’t been prepared last night, he’d been intoxicated last night, Snape was not going to get the same reaction of a sobbing mess out of him this time.

No matter how…SMAAACK…hard…SMAAAACK…He hit.

He shuddered out a breath, heaviness at the corners of his eyes.

There was a momentary pause and a brief displacement of air. He couldn’t be sure but that might have been Snape shaking his hand and re-enforcing his hand with magic.

SM…AAAAA…CK

He cried out, fingernails clawing at the wooden surface, toes the only things still on the stone floor—his entire body had been lifted. That had not been Snape’s hand. Uh ah.

OW!!

He tried to turn and see but his head was turned back around and an extra sharp smack was doled out to his bruising ass; whatever it was, encompassed his entire buttocks. He whimpered and the tears fell, dripping down his chin and into his opened and panting mouth.

It hurt. It hurt so much. It was so much worse than Snape’s hand yesterday and today. Or was that, today and earlier? Fuck he didn’t know, he didn’t care! It hurt!

He started to beg again.

He couldn’t be sure but the SMACK that followed might have eased up slightly or it might just be that part of his brain was now focused on the hand that fell to his head and remained there.

SMACK

SMACK

‘I’m…I’m…I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!’ He sobbed. He wasn’t even sure what he was apologising for right now. That he’d destroyed the Lab, that he wasn’t cleaning it to Snape’s standards quick enough, that he couldn’t help but fall into a sobbing mess when he was smacked, he had no idea.

Maybe he was apologising for not counting? Maybe he was supposed to count these too?

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

Another three were dished out, the hand on his head heavy but somehow comforting as it kept him grounded to the desk as his ass went up and his feet left the floor, before they stopped and he could slouch with his legs giving way, his lower half quivering, red and bruised and throbbing.

‘Get out. You can tell your friends you’ve got four months-worth of detention with me now considering Miss Granger’s faux pas.’ He lifted his hand away and helped Harry stand, conjuring back his pants and trousers, this time on him.  

He was shivering slightly as he turned around and scrubbed his face on his sleeve hurriedly.

‘Well, at least you aren’t in the sorry state you were this morning. Get out.’ He pushed Harry’s wand into his hands and pointed his head in the direction. ‘You know to come back tomorrow.’

Harry nodded silently, his head urging him to press his hands to his sore butt. He hurriedly pocketed his wand up his sleeve and rushed out of the Lab and down the corridor. He leaned against the wall a moment and simply breathed, he could feel his arse twitching and his pucker actually pulsing with the sting. His eyes flickered with the image of the wooden paddle in his Professor’s hand, half hidden by his robes. Fuck.

No wonder it had hurt so much.

He did know what those were, but it wasn’t like he was ever going to use one. Fuck, especially after that, he was never going to use that with any partners he might get now that he wasn’t plagued by Voldemort or his Horcrux or anything else. He supposed he still had to figure out where his tastes lie though—he wasn’t sure how that rumour Snape had heard had gotten around, because he was sure he hadn’t kissed any males in public recently, if at all.

He heaved a breath and pressed a hand tentatively to his bottom, he let it rest there a moment before making his way up the stairs from the dungeons and up the many others to Gryffindor Tower—he did take a detouring shortcut but it wasn’t like it still didn’t steep upwards. By the time he reached the seventh-floor corridor that was his, his legs were aching and his ass was still throbbing. He hoped his face didn’t look a mess, he unobtrusively slipped to a reflective mirror that was hidden behind a tapestry close by and stared at himself.

Not bad, he could attribute the redness of his eyes as the sting of the cleaner he was forced to use, since Snape had confiscated his wand. He lifted and dropped a shoulder, then headed back toward the portal. He had a few words with the Portrait and then slipped in, it wasn’t so late that the common room was empty so he avoided staring around overly much as others stared at his entrance.

He may have been limping a bit, but he hoped it wasn’t too noticeable and he hoped the flinch as he sat on a soft cushion in his favourite fire-side armchair wasn’t noticeable either.

‘Harry…’

His head came up and he glared.

‘Harry, I’m sorry.’ She sounded it, her book had even dropped the moment he’d entered.

He continued his glare for half a minute and then sighed heavily, closing his eyes and sinking back into the armchair, head pressed into his palm, his elbow on the armrest. He stared into the fire and finally spoke, his voice quiet, ‘He was probably going to figure it out anyway.’ He already had, he played you, the know-it-all, he thought. ‘He made me clean the floor without magic, my eyes sting from the fumes—whatever he had me using was potent and I even fainted once. He at least made me use a mask after that, can’t have the saviour fainting, now can he?’ He laughed derisively. ‘I have four months-worth of detentions.’

‘What?!’

He jerked back at her screech and Ron’s subsequent choke on his butterbeer. ‘What?’ He asked.

‘Mate, that’s hardly fair!’ His redheaded second youngest Weasley best friend.

‘It’s Snape, when is he ever? Besides, I expect it’s one detention for each potion I destroyed. There were four of them in there. I tipped over everyone when I upturned the tables. He’d been working on them for four months.’ He waved his free hand airily.

‘Harry that’s still hardly fair.’

He shrugged at her, closing his eyes and sighing into his hand. He was tired.

//

By the middle of the week, Harry could barely sit down without crying out. It seemed Snape had revered the way the paddle made Harry cry out and turned his ass red and blue for two days. He was sore. He was tired because he could barely let his mind relax from the pain; he wasn’t game enough to go asking Madam Pomfrey for any bruise balms because he knew she’d ask why and he no excuses planned. They had twice as much homework than everyone else; he was falling behind in that, and Snape was still making him scrub the floor with cleaner…

He was sighing a lot between classes. He'd even fallen asleep in some of them and gotten point deductions; which his housemates were annoyed at. 

They were at breakfast when he practically leapt off the bench from a voice above him. He’d almost thought it was Snape for a moment but the voice was feminine.

He turned, cheeks pink. ‘Luna?’

She smiled serenely. He stared awkwardly. He always felt like Luna knew everything even when no one else had been told. It was extremely bazaar and he often felt like she could see into his soul, let alone his future... 'Hello Harry.' 

'Hello Luna.' He smiled. 'What is it? His eyes strayed past her, feeling uneasy. 

‘I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me?’

He blinked. ‘Right now?’ He asked.

‘This weekend.’ She laughed.

‘Oh.’ He could have easily gone right now, as it was lunch and they weren’t trapped by the same rules as most students at Hogwarts. It was then he realised she was still a Seventh Year. ‘Um, alright.’ He said, nodding. ‘Sure.’

‘Lovely.’ Her smile didn’t falter. ‘I’ll talk to you more about it later.’

He nodded, ‘Right yeah.’ She started to walk off. He blinked. Whenever later was... ‘Bye Luna.’ He waved a little awkwardly and watched as she waved behind her and left the hall all together. ‘Did she even eat lunch?’ He asked of no one, turning back around only to stare at his friends staring back. ‘What?’

‘That wasn’t weird?’ Ron asked, jerking a thumb.

Harry paused, ‘No?’ He lifted a shoulder. ‘She’s Luna.’

'Mate...I still don't see how you don't find her strange.'   
  
'Never said I didn't...' Harry mumbled, shrugging a shoulder again with an eyebrow and lip twitch. 

'Right...We're all friends now, sure, but she is still extremely strange and honestly? She can be a little creepy sometimes. You don't get that?' He waved a piece of bacon around. Harry idly wondered where he'd gotten the bacon slice as there weren't any on the table around them as he smiled and shrugged again. 

 

‘I think she’s nice.’

Harry’s smile widened. ‘So, do I, Nev.’

'Whatever then.' Ron laughed. 'Do have fun on your little date on Saturday.' He mocked, snickering. 

‘Who said it was a date?’ Harry asked, a little more serious. 

‘It was.’ He supplied. 

Harry glowered.

‘It was.’

Harry continued to glower. 

‘You’ve kissed her right?’ Ron blurted. 

Harry immediately blanched, rearing back. 'No.' No was, admittedly, a bit flippant. 

'No? Really? Because I'm sure you said--' He got no further as Harry reached across the table and pointedly stared at Ron as he held his collar. Ron choked a little and floundered, pulling Harry’s hand from his shirt and pushing him back. ‘Well that all but proved you’ve done it.’ 

The table nodded. 

‘I haven’t done it.’ He glared.

‘Kissed her, mate, sorry.’

‘I haven’t.’ He growled.

'Is it actually so bad if you have, Harry?' Harry turned and glowered at Ginny. ‘Well, is it?’ She asked.

‘…No…I suppose…’ He grumbled out.

‘See. Besides, I know you’ve made out because she told me.’

‘What?! He screeched. ‘When the hell did she do that?!’

‘We’re friends Harry. We’re in the same year. We take most of the same classes. We study together in study hall. We help Hermione tutor the younger kids from time to time when they’re to rowdy for Miss Know-it-all, well we try.’ Hermione glowered over her book. Ginny smiled winningly. ‘She told me twice actually, I thought she might have forgotten.’ She started to frown. ‘Maybe she actually told me twice, but about two different occasions. You went to that Slug Club Christmas Party together, didn’t you?’

Harry grumbled and nodded.

‘Okay. You kissed then, after something about a conversation with nargles?’ Her lips twitched.

‘…I was trying to shut her up…Okay?’ He flushed, looking elsewhere.

She snickered. ‘And she helped you with the diadem, right? She shouted at you?’

He flushed redder, ‘Yes.’

‘Right. I suppose a feisty Luna set your blood pumping huh?’

Harry huffed and stood, ‘I think I’m finished with the food. I’ll go and sit by the Transfiguration room until the lesson starts. See you later.’ He snarked, grabbing his bag from beneath the bench and heading toward the doors. He could hear snickers from the Gryffindor Table and feel stares from Slytherin follow him out—there was a stare, that he couldn’t help but turn around to see, just for a second; Snape was pointedly staring, brows drawn in, his hand around his goblet stiff and white-knuckled.

Odd.

//

‘Can I ask mate; did you do more with Loony?’

Harry’s quill dropped from his fingers to the floor between his thighs. He stared as he picked it up, then cursed as he smacked his head on the table. ‘No.’ He hissed. 'It's Luna, Ron.' 

‘Really? Yeah, yeah.’ Ron asked, staring, waving his own quill around distractedly.

‘Yes.’ He hissed, flattening out the stray feathers and dipping his nib into his ink.

‘You can tell me.’

‘Sure. I haven’t Ron.’ He grouched.

‘Come on, you’re a terrible liar Harry, your face turns red.’

Harry touched it slightly, it felt a bit hot but he narrowed his eyes down at his paper. ‘Does not.’ He grumbled.

‘Does so. Was she any good?’

‘….’

‘Did she…Lovegood?’ He snickered.

Harry’s lips twitched, ‘Ron.’

‘Come on.’ He laughed low.

‘Ron.’ Harry said, speaking out the corner of his mouth, eyes drawn to the parchment and the board but no less picking up Professor McGonagall’s pointed stare. ‘Shut up.’

He laughed again.

‘Mister Weasley.’

Harry smirked behind a hand.

‘That warning goes for you too Mister Potter, wipe that smirk from your face.’

It dropped.

‘Speak again and I will take points.’ She warned.

//

The class passed by uneventfully, almost, they had 20 points of deductions when Ron couldn’t help himself and started back up with prodding Harry about Luna. Despite Harry’s adamant silence on the subject, his face did tell a story.

He knew he’d done more with Luna, Luna knew he’d done more with Luna. Harry just didn’t want to broadcast that he’d done so; was that so strange? It wasn’t like they’d had sex, a bit of snogging and some fumbling attempts at touching breasts and lower areas. He was, still, woefully, an eighteen-year-old virgin. When ever had he had the time? Besides, Luna was nice he just didn’t want to do that with her, and point of fact, he wasn’t sure that that rumour about him was a total lie.

Deny all he wanted, he had envisioned Malfoy in the bathroom and Snape, and it wasn’t like he didn’t occasionally let his eyes wander to the backsides of some of the men around Hogwarts; they were pretty fine asses, in more ways than one half the time.

The confusion was that he didn’t mind when he’d kissed Luna. He hadn't minded when he'd kissed Cho and he hadn't minded kissing Luna twice.

He knew he still stared around him occasionally, a little less maybe, at the women of Hogwarts too.

//

It had been a pretty nice Hogsmeade Date. Harry’d gotten up at 11, he’d met Luna at the Entrance waiting in one her weird outfits but her hair shining white in the sun that streamed in—since the doors were opened. They’d taken the carriages that were parked outside down to the wizarding village and then wandered until they decided where they wanted to really go—They’d gone to Honeydukes, Gladrags Wizardwear, Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop because Luna wanted new quills, apparently someone was in the habit of stealing her things again, Dervish and Bangs because Harry needed something fixed, they’d also gone to some new store that set up shop right at the end of the High Street, half concealed by bowing trees—discovering this was a Tattoo establishment Harry spent some time in here with Luna waiting patiently and handing out ideas that he actually thought were rather brilliant and then they’d had some nice lunch and butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks before sitting down in a little off-track sanctuary of sweeping trees, lush grass and beautiful blooming flowers.

This was where IT started. They kissed. Again.   
Maybe because it was just so easy to do so, it just seemed almost normal to move forward when she started spouting about weird things.   
Maybe it was simply because she was really nice, and she, in own weird Ravenclaw smart way, understood him. 

 

The second was after Harry had started to get a hard-on and so took them quickly back to Hogwarts where instead of going to Gryffindor Tower, they went to Ravenclaw Tower with its riddle passwords and contrasting colours. Here, men could enter the girl’s dormitory so it was lucky that when Luna dragged him there, his hand firmly in her smaller one, that no one was there; it didn’t hurt to take precautions and spell the curtains of her bed closed or cast some silencing spells and privacy wards; you know, just in case.

It was as they were getting into it and Harry found himself between her legs, nude as the day he was born, bar his glasses and socks, his penis erect and weeping and pointing straight up and a little outwards, as if begging him to do it that he paused. He’d paused earlier, blanching when she’d lowered his head toward her revealed vagina after a serious of long kisses that resulted in him travelling her upper torso and taking nipples into his mouth—she was a lovely moaner. He’d stared at it, close quarters, it wasn’t that it wasn’t beautiful it was it was just that he actually understood what she wanted, her fingers had frozen, tangled in his wayward raven locks as he’d halted, his arms holding him up now on elbows on either side of her thighs.  
  
He’d swallowed and licked his lips, blinking quickly as he saw it pulsate, saw the area wetten under his intense scrutiny. He’d attempted to get closer but something inside him had stopped him and he’d shook his head making a noise in his throat as he edged himself upwards and disentangled her actual tangled fingers. He had taken fingers to it, he had no qualms about doing that and in fact, since she had no qualms about him doing that at all, he’d gotten three fingers inside before she was urging with her hips for more, whimpering and tossing her snow coloured hair, dragging his fingers out with a squelching pop and running them up and over her clit a few times moaning his name.

Now, now he was stuck because he wasn’t sure he wanted too. Well, he wanted too but that thing that had halted him before and told him he’d rather not, it was back again only, this time it wasn’t as intense and might be easily swayed in the opposite direction; he found this frustrating and confusing and her moans were so tempting and her hand still continuing to rub though not as much as his own distractedly across her heated wet vagina were too.

He took a heavy breath, blinked a couple times and throwing caution and whatever that feeling was aside, whatever that slight hint was away, he shoved three fingers back into her roughly so that she cried out and as she said his name again in her breathy voice, he shoved in, in one fell swoop—he hoped that was okay but judging by her drawn out scream that sounded more like pleasure than pain, he would say it was alright.

Without even meaning to, he fucked her hard, he fucked her fast and he ended up drifting off to sleep in his sated blissful afterglow with her draping herself over him and twitching, her hand on his hip where a colourful newly acquired tip of a feathery imprint started. He found himself cursing as he awoke, partially covered in his own fluids, let alone hers and sticky with sweat.

He disentangled himself from her tight embrace and stared, hand covering his mouth.

'Well, **fuck**.' He swore, whispering. 

 

 


End file.
